Brotha Lynch Hung
Brotha Lynch Hung - Spitz Network songtekst
Je score:
(feat. Cos, Yukmouth) [Yukmouth:] Yuk that project nigga, I was forced to hustle I was forced to tussle drugs makin that coroner bubble, Nigga back and forth to court in trouble Cuffed by the task force in trouble I won a Porsche on the double, Pocket full of stones like Barney Rubble cursed by the devil Birds on the level of a kingpin smirk on the bezel I hit the hood inside my Esco-lade, make the ghetto say Yuk so ghetto wid his ghetto ways My ghetto pays, three and four bricks a day Pop Cris and play, the hardest representin' the Bay I fuck free puffin' trees inside me luxury way Y'all ain't tellin' me shit I'm tryna fuck celebrity chicks Yo rockin' a throwback seventy six, I got grand from eighty seven Ya bitch nigga always said I'd be rich The fans hit dead at the strip I still get executive chips Distribution deal executive shit Yuk and Lynch what's better than this Let the veterans spit Infra red in the clip deaden ya lip Ya bitch rappers better step shit up Call me Texas Yuk, fuck a van I rock the Lexus truck Wit the Smoke-A-Lot logo , uh oh Get ya coastal on a promo Yuk out of this world like Hans Solo Rap-A-Lot mafioso cop birds from Acopolco Real talk them not vocals Fuck the cops and po-pos, headlocks and choke holds They put me in again I pop the four-fours drop them homos And learn that the glock is no joke And learn that the Blocc is no joke Slang rocks and snort coke, we cook kis like gumbo pots We chop O-Z's to jumbo rocks, pay off Colombo cops Beef with me the fo' won't stop The gun expert let the tech burst the Spit Network [Hook:] It's the Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network [Brotha Lynch:] call me the human gas nozzle, twenty four gallons a shell on you Then I bail on you, somethin' smell on you you tell homie I'm sicker than malt liquor wid the gin mix wid a fifth of brandy And I'm hard like Chinese trigonometry you niggas can't understand me When I, go to plan C and shift gears like a five point O get clear, I'ma let one go, everybody get on the floor I got that petrol, and my momma ain't around and I can't let go And I'm bound to run up in a high school butt naked and let the techs go Bound to give my otha two children and hit the retro Catch me on a summer night, bleedin' ya sector Eat 'em up like Hannible Lector leave blood on the walls meat in my jaws, heat in my claws bleed up the walls beat up your dog with these Teflons and I'm so tired of bein' stepped on And when I'm done with you niggas you'll be so tired of bein' crept on In blue with my nigga, Yukmouth he in all red I'll leave 'em all dead call me the hog head spit raw lead [Hook] [Cos:] You see I hops outta somethin' bout as old as me And then I drops off somethin' or I pops off somethin' look 'all these hot dogs stuntin' I'm just playin' my part Back streets back and forth,I like to stay in the dark I pack heat that crack bubbles so just let the games start Gimme a quarter, I got hustle I'll be ballin' by dark So fuck the feds and the money, they just slowin' me down Cause I be paranoid now when I be rollin' around But I'm shark out the water call me deep sea rider Hop out the lark wid four five and then I sneak three by ya Before ya realise you aint hit my nigga Lynch beside ya With the nozzle of his barrell stuffed an inch inside ya Flood ya nostrils wid ya hollow we make ya bleed like hoes do When we plug you wit revolvers, make you freeze like poles do It ain't nothin' 'til ya partner's got the greasy nose too. Holdin' his tummy for weeks at a time livin' like old dudes Ya see down in the alley sippin' on old brew It's the East levy road alley, strap up the old school Nikes bout to confiscate paper like it was owed to me You bitches hoes to me, you'll give the O's to me These streets are gold to me, it's gettin' old to me Now I drink straight out the bottle just like it's sold to me Now I don't believe in tomorrow until it's shown to me I put ya name on my hollows spit at ya homies [Hook] [Brotha Lynch:] I'm bout to set it off like death scary scary, Shoot up ya little house on the prarie Eat out ya raw insides if ya dare me Open up ya heart like a Christian be aware of me Fixin' niggas like a hysterectomy, you won't get respect from me Right up in ya chest wid these, heat up ya whole set wid these T-O-E's cause I be offa these O-E's Handin' out these nose bleeds like food stamps I'm givin' niggas stomach cramps You hear me and Yuk and C-O you start to panic I'm a, manic depressant givin' motherfuckers chest lifts choke niggas we the siccmade necklace Better respect this before I get to fuckin wid that wet shit and dope get ya neck slit and To the ninety sixty fo' Drippin' blood off my hand G that's death Without poverty jam straps in ya rib trust me Better act right fuck a jack knife that night Bullets'll hit ya crib shootin' through cushions in ya livin' room You won't be livin' soon, it's goin' in 'em soon from the asshole to ya womb nigga Ya like that don't ya?, good, I'm right back dumpin At that ass and I'm fast to flash Cut you up like Grandmaster Flash And I pass the ash, dumpin' lead toes at ya pad And I bag the cash, you sit and wait for the Glad bags and the aftermath, coroners come grab the bags and pack the truck While I stack the bucks put you in the back of the truck nigga That's what's up nigga [Hook]